


The Shattered Light

by CassSarkisian



Category: Original Work
Genre: Disturbing Note, Gen, non-graphic descriptions of a murder scene
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-07
Updated: 2018-10-07
Packaged: 2019-07-27 20:46:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,829
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16227026
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CassSarkisian/pseuds/CassSarkisian
Summary: When Elyse Morris comes home from college on her spring break and finds her parents murdered, her only clue is a broken lantern, a family heirloom. Now she has to find her parents' murderer, but will she be able to avoid becoming a victim herself?





	1. The Discovery

A flash of lightning illuminated the door that leaned just slightly off of its hinges. The headlights of a car rolled slowly up the driveway, causing the rain left behind on the pavement to glow in the darkness. The sound of thunder covered the cut off of the engine as the figure inside removed their keys from the ignition. The car door opened silently and bounced back slightly as it reached the end of its tether. The figure in the car leaned forward, face masked by the oversized hood on their head, they stepped out carefully, seemingly guarding whatever they were holding in their hands from the rain. They moved quickly, but carefully, not wanting their effort to be wasted by slipping on the slick, stone path leading to the front door. As they reached the door, the figure paused, taking in the state of the door. Another flash of lightning, this one far closer than the cracking stream of light from before, caused them to jump, the parcels fell from the hands that clamped over the figure’s mouth. There, illuminated in the front entrance, slowly being rehydrated from the rain that had slipped through the cracks, was the rust color of dried blood. 

Elyse Morris backtracked her way into the yard, as she neared the roots of the old yew tree,  she emptied the contents of her stomach onto the rain-soaked ground. Retching until she could only dry heave, she attempted to compose herself, wiping the trails of vomit and bile from the corners of her mouth and chin. Tears made their way down her face, their warmth a momentary contrast from the chill of the rain. She hyperventilated for a few minutes, trying to regain control of her breathing. She then retrieved her phone from the confines of her jacket pocket. Dialing 911 quickly,  she pressed the phone to her ear, waiting for the person working the call desk to answer. “911, what’s your emergency?” Elyse froze, her parents were lying dead in the front entrance, what could she say, “Hello, sir, or ma’am? Are you there?”

“Y-yes. Sorry. I- I just, oh, god. T-they’re d-dead! M-my parents are dead!”

“Ma’am, can you give me your location, and who you are, please?”

“S-seventeen-f-fi-fifteen, L-Lafayette Drive. I- I’m Elyse. Elyse Morris.”

“That’s very good, Elyse, I’m Tasha. Can you stay on the line please?”

“Y-yeah, a-ar-are you g-going to send someone?”

“Of course. There will be a patrol at your location in about fifteen minutes. In the meantime, why don’t you tell me about yourself, ok?” Tasha’s voice was calm and reassuring.

“L-li-like wh-what?”

“Oh, anything. Do you go to school?”

“Y-yes, I’m a st-stu-student at Northwest Trinity.”

“That’s really cool, Elyse, tell me, does Professor Moore still work there?”

“O-oh, um, y-yeah he does, I’m in h-his psych c-class.”

“You’re a psych major?”

“Y-yeah, I am. Um, Tasha, right?”

“Yes, that’s me, do you need something?”

“Y-yeah, ca-can you c-co-cou-count for me?

“I absolutely can, what’s the pattern you use to steady your breathing?”

“F-four, s-sev-seven, eight.”

“Alright, thank you. Go ahead and breathe in for four, ok?”

“Ok.”

“One. Two. Three. Four, now hold for seven. One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven. And exhale for eight. One. Two. Three. Four. Five. Six. Seven. Eight. Alright, are you still with me, Elyse?”

“Y-yes, thank you,” Elyse inhaled and exhaled for a few more shaky, but even breaths, and soon the flashing red and blue lights of the patrol cars, harsh against the dark night, entered her vision, “They’re here, thank you again.”

“No problem. I hope you end up ok,” the line clicked to quiet, and Elyse put her phone back in her pocket.

\--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

The whirring thunk of the glass and metal door snapping shut echoed in the mid-morning air of downtown Mediya. Elyse stormed her way down the steps from the Police Station, “Not enough evidence, it’s been a week, there ought to be plenty of evidence” her words trail off into mumbles as she gets closer to her parking space, the traffic growing louder as the mid-morning rush begins. The police were officially declaring her parents’ deaths a double suicide, but Elyse knew better, she just didn’t have the evidence to prove it. She opened the door to her dark blue, 2005 Subaru Legacy, sliding in carefully, still ranting quietly about people who don’t know how to do their jobs. She turned her key in the ignition, buckling her seatbelt as an afterthought. “Alright, I’ll just have to take matters into my own hands,” she thought, gritting her teeth as she drove out of the parking lot.

Arriving at her destination, she quickly parked in one of the many open spots in front of the Harrington Public Library, she looked around, “Huh, not a ton of foot traffic nowadays,” she remarked to herself, noting the mostly empty lot. She approached the large, oaken doors, slightly intimidated by the intricate carvings, the centerpiece of which was a fairly-sized carving of an owl, wrapped in a laurel wreath, the symbol of the Goddess of Wisdom, Minerva. She grabbed one of the ornate handles, and pulled back, the force of the heavy door almost knocked her off of her feet. She entered slowly, almost reverently, and was greeted by the silence of heavy tomes.

She dared not speak a word, not wanting to break the nigh upon solemn silence. She neared the desk that was hidden behind the first three shelves, an old-fashioned card catalog sits to the right of the desk, just slightly further in. No one was there to greet her. She looked about, not sure who, or what she was looking for exactly, there had been only one other car in the lot, a weathered pale blue and white 1954 Chevrolet Impala. She encroached upon the card catalog, searching for the books that might tell her what a civilian could do to investigate a murder. Ranged from 340-350, were the books on the subject of law. The subcategory she figured she’d need was number 346, Private Law. She located those books in the back east corner of the library.

The squeaking of cartwheels arose from somewhere in the spacious building. Elyse glanced about, trying to pinpoint where the sound was coming from, but the acoustics in the massive, cement-walled room was fantastic, and the sound appeared to be coming from all sides. Elys turned back to the shelf, scanning the titles for one that sounded helpful, she’d decided on “Navigating the Legal Minefields of Private Investigating,” by Virgil Morse, when the grating sound of the wheels seemed to surround her closely. She turned, rapidly, startled when the front of the cart tapped her back slightly.

“Hello, dear, are you finding everything alright?” A small, elderly woman, with an old-fashioned ear horn pressed to one ear spoke quietly. The aged name tag read, in just barely legible letters, Eleonora.

“U-um, yes, thank you,” Elyse released the breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. The old woman had certainly given her a start.

“Eh, what’s that dearie? Speak up a bit, would you?”

“Oh, of course,” Elyse raised her voice slightly, “Yes, I think I’ve got everything I need, thank you.”

“No problem, dear. If you need anything else, just ask for me. Eleonora Olhouser. If you can’t find me, I’m sure Ghastly is lurking about somewhere,” Eleonora’s voice cracked with age, but it wasn’t unpleasant to listen to.

“Ghastly?” Elyse asked, remembering to speak slightly louder than she normally would.

Eleonora nodded, “My cat. Widowghast. Ghastly for short.”

“Your cat?”

“Yessiree. Ghastly probably knows this old library as well as the back of his own paws. If you can’t find me, find him.”

“Alright. Thank you Ms. Olhouser.”

“Of course dear, and please, call me Eleonora,” the librarian turned back to her cart, before asking a question, “Private investigation, eh? Is there a reason the police can’t handle it?”

Elyse froze, before speaking, “Oh, well, I just, I think they might’ve gotten my parents’ case wrong. I want to be able to look into it.”

“What evidence is there that anything at all is wrong with the police’s decision, I mean, you’d have to be fairly sure if you wanted to open your own investigation.”

This was the question Elyse had been hoping to avoid. To anyone who didn’t know the family, the single piece of evidence Elyse had didn’t sound very convincing, “A broken lantern.”


	2. The Decision

To Elyse’s surprise, while Eleonora smiled, she didn’t laugh or call Elyse crazy. She just cocked an eyebrow, “A broken lantern, well, that’s certainly interesting. What makes you think that it’s a clue?”

Elyse took a deep breath, “The lantern was a family heirloom, passed down from generation to generation. It was brought by one of my ancestors to America from Africa. He’d hidden it in his cloak, keeping it from his captors. When he was on the plantation, he was able to hide it among the common lanterns used to light the slave quarters past dark. His grandson used it to guide people in the underground railroad. It was passed down on my father’s side of the family.”

Eleonora nodded, “Until it reached your father.”

“Right. My father explained the history of it to my mother the night he proposed. Growing up I wasn’t even allowed to go near the corner where they kept it on display. They told me the story the day I turned eighteen. I’ve known about it for exactly three years of my life.”

“That still doesn’t explain why it’s cause to suspect murder, dear.”

“My parents wanted that lamp protected. It was never allowed to collect dust, when we had company, they would put it up somewhere where no one could go near it. I feel that even when it had passed to my hands, they would have protected it from beyond the grave, were they able. This lantern was their greatest treasure, even before me,” Elyse shook her head, to clear her mind of the memories ghosting through her mind.

Eleonora placed her hand on Elyse’s shoulder, “No need to say anymore, dearie, let’s get that book checked out to you, and if you have any questions about the investigation business, you just ask me. I was quite the sleuth in my younger days, you know.”

Elyse chuckled a little, then clapped a hand to her mouth shortly after, “Sorry, it’s just, you didn’t strike me as the type.”

“Oh, dear me, yes. You should have seen me in the ‘50s. Glory, I was a bombshell that not many boys were willing to try for. I was beautiful, for sure. But, I had brains too, and, lord, if they didn’t find that rather intimidating.”

Elyse had a hard time reconciling this little, old woman with the image she was describing, but something in Eleonora’s voice just made her believe it. There was a soft pitter-patter on the shelf behind Eleonora, and suddenly, a lean, muscled, deep red tabby, with lighter blonde markings leaped onto Eleonora’s head, “Oh! Ghastly, you know better than to frighten an old woman like that!”

Elyse giggled, “He’s adorable.” Widowghast purred, kneading at Eleonora’s scalp lightly.

Eleonora rolled her eyes, “That he is, and he uses it to his advantage. I can’t tell you how often this mischief maker has gotten away with something because he cuddles up to me and purrs.” She turned, walking toward the front desk, the content tabby winding down around her shoulders. Elyse followed close behind.

“Thank you, Eleonora. I’ll be back in three weeks.”

“Of course, dear, and take your time. There’s no hurry.”

\---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 

Three weeks later, Elyse made her way in through the library doors, carrying the book, a parcel of cookies, and something that she was all too excited to show the aged librarian. As she entered, she couldn’t see Eleonora, so she called into the shelves, “Ghastly, here kitty!” As if on cue, the cat made his way out of the shelves, twining his way around Elyse’s legs, Elyse bent down, scratching his ears lightly, “Hey, can you help me find Eleonora? I have something to return.”

It might have been her imagination, but Widowghast almost seemed to nod, before walking towards the south side of the library, into the deep stacks. It was about a five-minute walk to where she found Eleonora. Widowghast slinked over to his owner, meowing loudly. Eleonora’s eyes lit up upon seeing Elyse, “Ah, hello dear. I’d been wondering when you’d arrive.”

“Hey, Eleonora. Oh, I brought the book back, and I made you and Ghastly some oatmeal cookies. Just oatmeal, so he can have some too.”

“Thank you, dearie. That was just what we needed around here. Come this way, we’ll get that book checked back in, and we can have a bit of a chat.” Elyse nodded, grinning broadly. This woman had quickly become one of Elyse’s favorite people to talk to. Somehow, in following Eleonora, they returned to the desk far quicker, than it had seemed when following Widowghast.

Elyse placed the cookies on the desk, while Eleonora marked the book as checked in, and then placed it to the side, “I’ll put it up later,” was her offhand remark as Elyse turned to her, “Now, tell me, child, you’ve been buzzing like a bee in mid-June, what is it that has you so excited?”

Elyse grinned, slinging the small haversack off of her shoulders, digging through it, she pulled out a black card holder, unfolding it, showed a license similar to a driver’s license, but below it was a stainless steel badge engraved with the words ‘Private Eye’. “I got it. I got my investigator’s license. Now I can solve their murder!”

Eleonora chuckled at Elyse’s enthusiasm, “Of course you can, dear,” she said, passing one of the homemade cookies to Widowghast, who sniffed at it, then bit into it happily, “However, investigating is often slow going. Are you in this for the long haul?”

Elyse looked almost offended that Eleonora had asked that, “Of course I am. Whoever did this, murdered my parents. They have to be brought to justice.”

Eleonora smiled sympathetically, “I know, dear. I know. I just wanted to make sure. Now, you want to start your investigation by figuring out the cause of death. Certain types of weapons can lead to certain people.”

Elyse nodded, making sure to pay attention to every word Eleonora was telling her, “Then what?” she asked, eagerly.

“Well, then you dust for prints. That lamp especially. It’s the only clue you really have, so you want to be careful how you gather evidence from it.”

“Right, but if I do figure out who it is, then what?”

“Then you make a citizen’s arrest, and call the police.”

“Got it. Thanks for all the help, Eleonora,” she stroked the back of the cat, who was helping himself to the rest of the cookies, “You too, Widowghast.” It was about 5:30 in the afternoon at that point as Elyse had stopped by only after getting her license, and she had done other things beforehand. “I should head out, it’s about time for me to grab some dinner, and I want to figure out my starting point for tomorrow.”

“Of course, dear. Have a nice night.”

Elyse smiled, “You too, Eleonora,” and she walked out the door. Making her way back to the motel that she was staying in, for the time being, she parked her car. Digging through her pocket for her key, she paused outside her door. Only to drop the key. She bent to pick it up, and as she rose, noticed some odd scratches on the inside of the door jamb. With a puzzled look, she tried the knob. To her surprise, the door opened easily, and she retreated to her car to find a plausible weapon. She returned with her umbrella, carrying it over her head, ready to crack it over the head of whatever assailant awaited her. She found no one, but there was a manila envelope on the bed that certainly hadn’t been there before.

She slipped the pair of light gloves she’d brought for chilly days on, and opened it. Inside there was a letter, written in a messy, but legible scrawl, it read, “ Hello, my Darling. You’ve been rather naughty, haven’t you? Looking into a case the police have declared has nothing more to it? I mean, it really wasn’t very sporting of you to do that. Some things are better left unseen, some questions left unanswered. You wouldn’t want to meet the same fate as your parents, now would you, darling? Anyway, I just want to remind you, that we’re promised, you and I. So, I can’t reasonably have you meet the same grizzly fate. Ta, for now, my lovely, little Light. I hope you don’t go out too soon. ” There was no signature, merely a simple, scrawled drawing of a book.


End file.
